Page 119 of Absolution

“Jackie, wait-” He grabs my hand before I can turn. And then, he drops to his knees. Right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

On his knees.

“Please,” he says, voice trembling. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything.”

My breath catches.

People nearby glance over. One couple pauses mid-conversation. A car door slams in the distance. But I can’t hear any of it, just the sound of Kyle’s voice, breaking right in front of me.

He clutches my hand, but not tight. When I tug, it slips free like he’s already given up.

I stare at him, his head bowed like he’s praying for a version of us that doesn’t exist anymore. My heart twists, but I can’t stay here. Not like this.

I take a step back. Then another.

He looks up, eyes red, face wrecked. “Please, Jackie,” he begs, louder this time, desperation flooding every word. “I’ll do anything. You want to see other people? Fine. I’ll stay home. I won’t ask questions. You want to have boyfriends? I won’t stop you. I won’t say anything. I’ll wait. Just please, please don’t walk away.”

His voice shatters. His words crumble into sobs that follow behind me as I turn and walk faster, past the restaurant, past the strangers staring. I hear murmurs, soft whispers, someone asking if I’m okay. But I don’t stop.

I can’t do this.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Kyle

She left.

She actually left.

I stay on the ground, kneeling beside my car like a man whose soul just cracked open. My shoulders shake. I can't stop the sounds coming out of me, ugly, guttural sobs that feel like they’ve been waiting years to escape.

She’s gone.

Jackie’s gone.

It isn’t until a voice pierces the fog that I realize I’m not alone.

“Sir?” a woman says gently. “Are you okay?”

I look up. There are people. Strangers. A couple by the curb, a man pulling out his phone, a waitress standing awkwardly by the patio fence. Some stare with pity, others with something that looks like disgust.

I don’t care.

Let them look.

Dragging myself upright, I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve and fumble into the driver’s seat. The door shuts with a thud that echoes through my ribs. I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, willing my breathing to slow.

It takes me a long time to turn the car on. I just sit there, staring at the dash, the glow of the clock, the ghost of Jackie still in the passenger seat.

This was supposed to be a turning point.

It was.

Just not the one I wanted.

I start the engine.

Pulling out of the parking spot. I’m quiet as I drive around the restaurant one last time, not even sure why. But just as I drive toward the exit, someone steps in front of the car.

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